On his death, the family continued their tradition of giving. They asked that donations be made to Special Olympics of Pennsylvania or Thon, The Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, in lieu of flowers or gifts.

Capital campaigns

Beyond his own giving, Paterno is credited with playing a role in all three of the capital campaigns that Penn State has launched. Raising funds for Penn State came easy to Paterno. He didn't shy away from making "an ask."

He and his wife hosted donors at their home where they would serve a meal and then make a pitch for money when it came time for after-dinner drinks. Paterno said in a 2006 interview, "I've been known to say, ‘Give that cheapskate a drink!'"

He made fundraising stops while on the recruiting trail.

He'd pose for pictures and sign autographs in hopes it might add another zero to the check amount.

"I wasn't afraid to go out and raise money," Paterno said in that earlier interview.
He described fundraising as similar to recruiting young athletes to come to Penn State.

"Sooner or later you got to ask the kid, ‘Are you coming or aren't you?' " Paterno said. "I don't see much difference. I've been telling my coaches, ‘Ask. Put the question to 'em for crying out loud. Let's stop horsing around.' I think that's pretty much [the same] with fundraising."

His popularity and iconic status got him through the doors of potential donors that might have been impenetrable to others. His charm often led to the promise of fists full of cash supporting the university.

"He [was] one of the strongest weapons Penn State [had] in that regard," former Penn State President Joab Thomas said.

Paterno could attract attention from a broader spectrum of potential donors than almost anyone you could name. Banking on that, and the success of the university's first campaign back in the 1980s, Paterno played a leading role in setting $1 billion as the goal for Penn State's second capital campaign that ended in 2003.

Thomas said Paterno was confident that goal was attainable.

"Even I choked on that," Bill Schreyer, the late trustee emeritus and former Merrill Lynch CEO who is among the university's most generous donors, said in a 2006 interview. "I said, ‘Take it easy, Joe. We're not going for a wipeout of a football game.' "
But Paterno was determined.

"I would needle 'em all the time, ‘We're not setting a goal high enough,'" Paterno had said. "Let's go for a billion, a billion sounds great. Nine hundred ninety million wouldn't be as impressive. I think your alumni when they hear their university can raise a billion dollars and go out and get it done, it makes them proud."

That second campaign raised $1.4 billion.

Paterno also was named an honorary chair of Penn State's ongoing "For the Future" capital campaign that runs though June 2014 with a $2 billion goal.

The Paterno influence on this latest fundraising campaign began in its earliest stages when he helped bring Peter Tombros, a retired president and CEO of Enzon, a biotech firm, and the current director and non-executive at NPS Pharmaceuticals, on board to serve as its volunteer chairman.
"That may not sound like much but really, in the scheme of a campaign of this magnitude, you need a great leader and a great fundraiser, and Joe knew that Peter was that person," said university spokeswoman Lisa Powers. "Finding the perfect match and convincing them to take on the challenge was critical. Joe did it."

A source of pride

First and foremost, Paterno led by example. He and his wife have given the university more than $4 million for scholarships, endowed faculty positions and assorted building projects, most notably the library wing at the university's main campus that bears their name.

The Paterno library was a source of pride and amusement for its namesake. He had often said Penn State is the only campus where there's a library named after the football coach and a sports arena — the Bryce Jordan Center — named after a former university president.

"Joe often laughs about that," said Jordan, in an earlier interview from his Texas home. "I think both he and I are pleased with that arrangement."

Paterno also played a key role in getting Penn State into the fundraising business back in the 1980s.

Jordan recalled a university trustees meeting when Paterno and the football team were honored for winning the 1982 national championship. At that meeting, Paterno called it a "magic time" to improve the university's educational quality and issued a challenge to trustees to make the university No. 1 in academics as well.

"I told them the university can't go forward without private fund-raising," Paterno said. "I felt it was a good time because we just won our first national championship ... so I thought, ‘Let's grab the moment.'"

Jordan said Paterno agreed to serve as vice chairman of the committee that ran that first campaign launched in 1984 with a goal of $200 million — the highest target ever set by a public university at the time.

"He never missed a meeting of that executive committee, which said a lot to me about his interest in the university, and I will always be very grateful for the superb help he gave us in mounting that first private fundraising campaign of any size," Jordan said. "It was met with certain suspicion because in those days public universities did not raise private money and Joe was a full supporter of that idea. I'll never forget that."
That campaign ended in 1990 after raising $352 million.

Hard to turn down

Schreyer, who chaired that first campaign, said in the 2006 interview he thought he would have to train Paterno to make the request from a donor, but Paterno was far more skillful than he imagined. Paterno always did his homework to find out how deep potential donors' pockets were before meeting with them.

Paterno's talent for separating people from their money became legendary.

"If a guy didn't go as high as Joe thought he could go, he'd say, ‘Come on, Charlie, you can do better than that,'" Schreyer had said.

And Paterno had an effect on donors.

"Most people would have a figure, let's say $5,000 to pick an amount, in mind. But they'd be embarrassed to say $5,000 to Joe. They'd almost stumble over their own words and say $10,000. Most times, if Joe was satisfied, you could see a sigh of relief come across their face," Schreyer had said.

While no one seems to recall anyone ever turning down the coach's request for a donation, Paterno claimed it happened.

"Oh sure. There are people that just can't do it," he said. "Several times, we've walked away and within a year or two, we've gotten a telephone call. ‘I'm in a little bit better position now, can I talk to you?' ... So they're nice people. Now there are other people who can do it who just stonewall you. They don't want any part of what we're all about. And that's fine. Some are our richest alumni."

Certainly, Paterno knew he'd be remembered for his storied career as a football coach.

But asked six years ago if he wanted to be known as the university's top fundraiser as well, he replied, "I just hope when I'm old and when I'm gone, somebody will say, ‘Hey, Joe had an impact on making this a little better place.' That would be a great tribute to me."

As thousands gathered outside Old Main on Sunday to remember Paterno, the crowd was in agreement Penn State was a better place because of him.